Salem Hates Mondays
by erttheking
Summary: Salem was ready to deal with exactly nothing when she got out of bed that morning. Sadly she had to deal with the opposite of nothing. Patreon sponsored story


Salem's eyes cracked open. It was eight already. She could've sworn that she had just laid her head down a minute ago, and yet the day had already come. Grumbling, she pushed herself up, her messy, undone white hair cascading around her, rubbing her eyes as she did. Her eyes blinked as they adjusted to the light shining in through the windows, tinted red and black as it was by how the land had been corrupted by the God of Destruction. Grogginess hung over her mind like a damp cloth, it had not been a particularly fulfilling night of sleep, and hunger panged at her stomach.

The Gods, it seemed, had crude senses of humor. Her body was truly immortal and every sense of the word, but they had not seen fit to remove it of mortal wants. She could fast for years and deprive herself of sleep for just as long, and death would never come for her. But, she would be miserable. Her mind still demanded sleep and her stomach was much happier when it was full. She had no idea how this worked, other than the Gods had intentionally designed it that way to make her more miserable.

Still grumbling, she lifted herself out of bed, tied a black bathrobe on tightly, slipped into a pair of slippers, and made her way towards the door. An idle wave of her hand sent brushes and bands flying from a nearby vanity, all of the instruments coiling up her messy hair into its usual braids and bun. Stopping to give it a quick look over and finding it satisfactory, she exited her bedroom and began to descend down into the lower areas of her lair through a long, spiraling staircase.

When this castle had first been built, there had been some reasoning in making the bedchambers so far from the kitchen. She was fairly certain that there had been anyway. Part of it had been a power play, she vaguely recalled. A god had to live above their followers, even a benevolent god, both metaphorically and literally. Therefore, a servant should have to climb to the top of a tower to bring a god her morning breakfast, saying both that they had to come to her, and she would have what she desired carried to her, no matter how far it was.

The message lost some of its impact when 99% of your servants were embodiments of destruction. It didn't matter how excellent they were at combat and terror tactics when you were off the battlefield and just wanted someone to bring you eggs and toast. There was no help to be had there when most of them were feral beasts, and the ones that weren't both lacked opposable thumbs and couldn't fit inside the kitchen without tearing the roof off. So, the same tedious tower climb that had been used as a power play was now her irritating morning commute.

She was getting a new bedroom the second she figured out how to get a king sized bed down a stairwell that was one person wide.

Eventually, she reached the ground floor. The one change to her castle over the years that she liked was the presence of modern appliances. Cinder's underlings had dragged a few stolen ones in for personal comfort, and they had enough Dust stockpiled to keep them running for centuries. This meant the preservation of foodstuffs. Rubbing her eyes, she approached the fridge and slid it open. Two eggs. That was all that was left. It would do for today, but she was out of luck for any days after that. A frying pan was out, the stove was on, and the eggs were cracked. The sound of them sizzling brought a tiny smile to her face. As irritating as mortal trappings could be, there were creature comforts to the taste of food.

The door burst open the second the eggs had started to solidify. The palm of her hand pressed into her face. Of course. Of course, they couldn't wait five minutes. "Mercury, MERCURY! Give it back!"

"Nu-uh! Not until you admit it! You think Watts is cute, don't you? You got a bunch of little cute pictures of Watts here don't you? You like his mustache? Let me have the code in and I'll give it back." Mercury was gleefully leaping out of Emerald's reach, her scroll firmly clutched in his hand. Emerald's weapons, she couldn't remember what they were called, everyone's weapons needed to have some flowery name nowadays, were swinging wildly through the air. Mercury was keeping arm's reach away from her, and Emerald was swinging without rhyme or reason in an attempt to catch him. One went through the ceiling, the other carving up the table in the corner. Another swing went directly through Salem's frying pan.

She looked down as her breakfast dribbled onto the floor, almost finished. Her eye twitched. Mercury and Emerald were no longer in her field of vision, but she could tell that they had stopped moving and that their eyes were on her. She let them stew for a second. But only a second. "Salem...we didn't mean to-" Emerald began.

"Out," she said, pointing towards the door without looking. "Now." They didn't need to be told twice. They scampered out of the kitchen, Mercury still not letting go of Emerald's phone, the door slamming behind them. The eggs sizzled lightly on the floor. Salem didn't bother to pick them up or the fragments of the frying pan, even with her magic it would've been beneath her. She was not dignifying the antics of Cinder's children, even in the most minor of ways.

Stepping over the mess, she slid into a chair near the ruins of the table, massaging her temples. Reaching into her robe's pocket, she produced a scroll. The thing still felt odd to her, only having been around for a few short decades, but it had some uses. Turning it on, she navigated into a few sub-menus until she saw Cinder's name. She pressed on it. "Kitchen." Her scroll then went scattering onto a fragment of the table that was still upright.

Twenty minutes. Twenty. Minutes. That was how long it took Cinder to arrive. She was wearing that same flowing red dress she had taken to wearing recently, complete with the tacky peacock feathers that fit with the color scheme about as well as a rhinestone encrusted purse. "Yes?" Her tone was that of irritation, a subtle implication that she thought that this talk was a waste of time. Salem would've had no tolerance for this on a good day. Right now, she was feeling particularly vindictive.

"You took quite some time getting here," Salem asked

"I was busy," Cinder replied stiffy. "Doing-"

"Doing what exactly?" Salem replied coldly. "Sitting still, cackling to yourself about a clever little scheme you've been thinking up? If so, you've been very busy, considering that's what you've been doing for the last year, with no fruits to bear. And while I imagine you've become very proficient in the case of taking forever to do nothing, I feel as if we've found an opening in your busy time table. In that case, make yourself useful for once in your life." She gestured at the mess the kitchen had become. "Clean up after your children."

Cinder blinked. "If they were my children, I would've drowned them when they were ten," Cinder growled. "This isn't my responsibility."

"Don't talk like you would know what you would do if you were a mother," Salem said. "And yes. You're the one stringing the girl and the boy along, making the boy feel big and strong when he kicks puppies, letting the girl believe that she has meaning to you outside a pawn. I actually had children Cinder, I know all the tricks you know and then some. You're playing the part of a mother. Poorly. At least to the girl. And since they are inseparable, for whatever reason, that makes the boy the ill-behaved step-son, regardless of how you feel about it. Now. Be a good mother and clean up after them." Cinder opened her mouth, but Salem gave her a long, silent, piercing stare. Her mouth closed.

Grudgingly, she fetched a broom from a nearby closet. "And when you're done, get more food," Salem said, getting to her feet and striding away without a word. Taking out her frustrations on Cinder had cheered her up for a moment in the heat of the situation, but it had been a temporary form of relief. The hunger pangs were starting to truly strike her now. She snatched an apple on her way out and tore into it with her teeth, but it would only take the edge off of the hunger at best. Still, it was better than nothing.

Working her way through the castle, she took a brief glance out of a nearby window. The hordes of Grimm outside were particularly thick today, more than usual were bubbling up from the pits of Destruction. She would have to do a quick headcount latter, maybe something there would make her mood a little less sour. She wasn't entirely sure.

She passed by a tapestry that was torn to shreds, she vaguely recalled that it might have been her who had done that, and a shattered statue, that one was probably Ozpin, probably, before she found herself in an open courtyard. Sitting down, she scarfed down what was left of the apple, idly tossing the remains to the side. Perhaps she could force an order for a grocery run, she had demanded less from her followers. Tyrian, after all, would cut off his fingers in order to please her. But her ordering him to act would involve her having to interact with him, a strenuous task at the best of times.

And, just as if the gods were listening and still eager to punish her, she heard his voice. "Oh, my white rose, how I admire thee. I would kill for you, and humbly ask thee to tea." Salem found herself grinding her teeth before she could stop herself. It was bad enough to be worshipped by a mere simpleton, it was made even worse by how desperate he was to prove his admiration for her.

His footsteps were very audible now, prompting Salem to close her eyes in resigned acceptance. The steps drew closer, cut off by a massive gasp. "Oh, my Queen! Forgive me, you are out and about and yet this mere servant is idling the day away." Either he was intentionally acting this over the top in a desperate attempt to flatter her, or it was entirely sincere on his end. Both were painful thoughts in their own ways.

There was a rustling, and even though her closed eyes Salem could tell that he was kneeling. "Please my liege, grant this mere pawn his orders. He would gladly lay down his life for you, happy that he had bled for this purest of white roses." Salem was sorely tempted to order him to do just that and die for her if he was so insistent. It was a win-win scenario, either he was idly boasting and a bit of humiliation would shut him up, or he was sincere and he would be out of her life in the next ten seconds. But no, she was short staffed enough already, and there were certain things that needed doing.

"Go grocery shopping," she remarked, her eyes still not open. "Eggs. Three dozen." She half wished that Tyrian would hesitate or stutter a confused reply, something that she would be able to pounce on and unleash a bit of her bottled up frustration. But he didn't, of course, he didn't. There was more rustling as he sprang to his feet.

"At once my queen. Your nourishment and desires shall be met, you shan't want so long as I breathe." And with that, he was off, bounding away, cackling madly. Well, at least he would be gone for a few hours now. "Ah, Mr. Black, what have you done to serve our Queen today?" No. No. No, no, no, no. None of that.

"Fuck it, back to bed," Salem said, her eyes snapping open as she rose to her feet, stumbling back inside. She sniffed as she went. It was meant to be a move of disgust. And yet her eyes widened when she smelled smoke. She sniffed deeply. There was no mistaking it, she smelled smoke. In fact, thick, billowing smoke was pouring out of the castle now. "What the-" she began, only to be interrupted by Cinder stomping out of the castle, her hands in fists and her knees practically coming up to her chest.

"You won't find the mess anymore!" she sniped at Salem as she passed by.

"Cinder! How dare you defile the sacred home of our savior! There must be consequences for this!"

"Cinder! Tyrian's bugging me, make him go away."

"En guard Fall!"

Salem knelt down on the grass, wrapping her arms around her legs, as she watched the burning building.

It wasn't even eight yet.

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Author's Note: Thank you for your patience on this one. Summer school and a new full time job have been sapping my creative juices.

I would like to thank my Patrons, SuperFeatherYoshi, xXNanamiXx, RaptorusMaximus, Davis Swinney, Mackenzie Buckle, Josue Garcia, Jonathan Eason, Ryan Van Schaack, ChaosSpartan575, and LordofNaught for their amazing support.


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